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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23202352">Ms. Kill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sc3ne_kid/pseuds/sc3ne_kid'>sc3ne_kid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Creepypasta - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Child Death, Child Murder, Creepypasta, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead People, Elementary School, Explicit Language, Gen, Gore, Graphic Description, Hallucinations, Hearing Voices, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Murder, Mutilation, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, School, Violence, Violent Thoughts, Weapons, eyeball eating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:54:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23202352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sc3ne_kid/pseuds/sc3ne_kid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ms. Quinn is a first-grade teacher who suffers from psychosis, but it all goes away after a strange encounter with someone in her yard. (Original story with original characters)</p><p>Note: Not trying to stigmatize mental health as not everyone who is a killer has psychosis and not everyone with psychosis is a killer. This is simply something she suffers from but deals with until it goes away after her encounter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Backstory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Graphic depictions of death, child murder, and cannibalism. Slight explicit language.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alright class! That’s a wrap for today, you can grab your bus pass on the way out and make your way to the bus loading area.” Ms. Quinn hunched over at her desk as the first graders made a rush out of the classroom.</p><p>“Yeah, class is over little snots, hope your bus crashes.”</p><p>“Maybe the engine will fail and the bus would explode.”</p><p>“Or someone could take the bus hostage and shoot them all!”</p><p>Ms. Quinn balled up her hair in her fists. Silently cursing her brain, she took a deep breath, letting shaky hands fall gently onto the desk. Teaching first graders was hard, but teaching first graders with violent, nagging voices that only she could hear was harder. She had unexplained psychosis but managed to keep it under control with the proper medications. Recently though, she hadn’t been able to afford a refill. The price in the meds had spiked and teaching just didn’t pay enough. She made do though, despite being pushed close to her breaking point numerous times.</p><p>Packing papers into a manilla folder, she loaded her wheeled tote in preparation to go home. Voices ringing through her head, laughing and teasing her disheveled state, she put on her jacket and made her way to the staff parking lot. She’d wave at teachers as she passed, all waving back, but some with a pitied look in their eyes. All the staff that worked with her were informed of her situation, but they just couldn’t seem to understand the severity of it. They didn’t have to though, because Veronica Quinn seemed to hold up better than any of the other teachers, even those without some lingering neurodivergent issue.</p><p>Treading across the parking lot, she lifted her tote into the passenger seat of her car, seeing as the backseat was filled with empty cans and fast food trash. Sighing at the mess she knew she should clean but didn’t, she walked around the front of the car and sat down in the driver’s seat. Driving home was always a challenge, just easier when on her medication. Sliding the key into its socket and turning the car on, her unwelcome buddies piped up.</p><p>“You should put the car in reverse and crash straight into the person behind you. I bet they were a dick anyway.”</p><p>“If you don’t wanna do it in reverse, you could drive into the car across from you! Maybe you would also die in the process, but it would be so worth it, right?”</p><p>Counting backward from five, she readied herself to make it home. She didn’t live too far, so she could always hold out until then. That was on medication. It was harder without, but barely manageable. Grounding herself by gripping the steering wheel with a death grip, making it home was a hassle, but the task was completed. Everything has an order. Like math. For math it was PEMDAS. It’s always PEMDAS. Being a math teacher, she applied simple order and function in her everyday life. It always seemed to help a little bit, math being her passion.</p><p>Removing the keys from the transmission, she grabbed her tote from the passenger seat and wheeled to the front door. Pulling her keys out to unlock it, she noticed it wasn’t locked. It’s possible she forgot to lock it, forgetting is normal when you’re being pelted with nonstop noise. Opening the door, the catastrophe she left every day for school was revealed to her once again. Papers and fast food trash was strewn everywhere, clothes haphazardly tossed upon the floor, and a sink full of dishes that threatened to topple. She grimaced, the mess bringing the atmosphere down. </p><p>Pulling the tote into her bedroom, where the only clean thing was her work desk, she plopped onto the bed. Pushing her laptop to the side, she crawled up to the pillow and pulled it over her head. The voices were never quiet, always criticizing her every move. It was only 5 pm and she still needed dinner, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything else that night. The blinds were always closed, sealed with blackout curtains that only let hairs of light seep through. She rolled onto her side, staring at the empty bottle of Thorazine on the bedside table. Her saving grace diminished to nothing at all. The voices started a pointless argument, but it was no matter. The tiredness that never seemed to lift pulled her deep into a dreamless slumber.</p><p>Eyes fluttering open, the clock read 2:03. Too early, but that was her fault for falling asleep at 5. Pulling her hands to her face, she rubbed her eyes until galaxies appeared. Instinctively, she grabbed the orange bottle on the nightstand but released it when she remembered it was empty. Groaning, she pulled the pillow back over her head. The voices had already started for the day, but something was different. </p><p>“Your students deserve to die. They’re assholes. You should stab them all till their tiny voices will no longer be heard.”</p><p>“That ruler you sharpen out of nervousness would be the perfect thing to use!”</p><p>She clenched her eyes shut, horrified by the things she heard. She started tapping her fingers, both a nervous habit and a grounding technique. She slowly removed the pillow from her head and sat up. Maybe they were worse because she was hungry. That could be it. Sitting up, her eyes scanned the room. There were shadows everywhere, dancing across the walls. This was odd, as her room should’ve been in complete darkness. She glanced over to the window, noticing her blackout curtains. They were open, letting moonlight flood the room. She jumped, nervous. She never opens the curtains. It’s too scary to look outside through them. Without meaning to, she slowly got up, treading to the window. Eyes held wide open, she stared through. Outside, she saw a heavily mutilated body. She gasped in horror. Closing her eyes, she counted to ten. She was just hallucinating. There was nothing wrong. It was okay.</p><p>The voices seemed to think otherwise, all starting to laugh in unison. Tears fell from her eyes, everything so loud. Opening her eyes again, she saw the body, but next to it a dark figure. Normally, she would be shocked. Fear would course through her veins, disconcerting any rational thought that would cross her mind. Instead, she felt calm. The silhouette of the person seeming to stare straight into her eyes. Her mind fell silent. For once, no one spoke. It was lovely. Her body started moving without thinking. Fingers tenderly unlocking the window, lifting it up smoothly. Hoisting her body up, she slid out the window, not losing eye contact with the creature. </p><p>Her feet landed feather-light on the grass, and her hands left the windowsill. Her mind filled with distant sounds of her first-grade class. Their gentle laughter and soft voices filled the deepest corners of her mind. Approaching the creature, she realized it was so much taller than her. She reached her hand out, moving to touch it. In the blink of an eye, his “hand” grabbed hers. Just as quick as it appeared, it had gone. She stopped. Wasn’t someone just there. She looked down to see if everything had been a hallucination. The body was still there, but for some reason, she didn’t feel fear. It looked… beautiful. She kneeled down, now on her knees. Her hand moved to the body’s face. It was so mutilated she had no clues as to who it might be. Her fingers hovered over their eyes before she snapped out of it. Her head shook, but she wasn’t bothered by the body. Her only concern was getting rid of it. That was a concern for later though.</p><p>She ordered 24-hour Chinese takeout and sat at her kitchen table. Sliding garbage to the side, she held her head in her hands. The voices were still silent, which was unusual for being two weeks off of meds. She felt at peace for once, not nervous, not paranoid, nothing. Smiling, she heard a knock at the door. She opened the door, staring at the man. She took in all his features in just a quick moment. Paying and accepting her food, she went back to the table. As she ate, her mind wandered. Logically, she knew she should be scared. There was a dead body in her backyard, and there was a black silhouette, unlike any hallucination she had experienced before. The food was burning her mouth, but she paid no mind to it. She could definitely feel it, but it didn’t register as important enough to worry about. </p><p>Coming back to, she glanced over at the clock on her stove reading 6:24. Zoning out for four hours didn’t bother her this time, she just took it as it was. It was, however, time to get ready to go to work. Humming the tune to twinkle twinkle little star, she zipped through her morning routine. Dressing in a business casual outfit with a small splash of color and reapplying makeup she never took off, she grinned, ready to go. </p><p>Arriving at the elementary school, she felt more energetic than ever, with a fun pep in her step. Her mind was engrossed with the image of the body in her yard, but it didn’t bother her one bit. She sat down at her desk, unloading ungraded papers from her tote. Opening the desk in her drawer, she took out the sharpened ruler. She never knew how she developed the habit of sharpening it, but it proved grounding to deal with the voices. </p><p>Her students began flooding into the classroom, their loud voices sounding like sick music to her ears. She closed the door, thankful to be in a classroom without windows. They were working on basic addition with nothing more than two-digit numbers. Teaching them the egg method was her favorite, despite being very simple. These poor first graders were so impressionable, and that’s why it was the prime time to teach them basic life skills. </p><p>“Kill them.” A voice rang from deep in her head, sounding different than the others that were normally there. On any other day, she would be horrified, but today, it was just so appealing. Scanning the room, she was glad that she had one of the few single classrooms with no windows. She grinned, glancing down at the sharpened ruler on the desk. It was a smaller class, with only 12 students, meaning this would be an easier job. She didn’t need to prepare herself, she already had an idea in mind.</p><p>“Alright class, let’s take a break and play a game, shall we?” The children cheered, always ready for a game. “We’re going to play something like hide and seek! Ms. Quinn is going to cover her eyes and let you all hide, then she’ll turn off the lights and try to find you. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” A flood of tiny voices came and not one no was heard. She went over to the light switch, clutching her ruler in hand and covered her eyes. She alerted the class that it was time to hide, and she started counting to twenty. </p><p>At the end of her counting, she flicked the lights off. The room was encompassed in darkness and for an unknown reason, she could see perfectly. She heard the command from in her head again and got to it. </p><p>“Now class, you all have to be very silent, that way Ms. Quinn doesn’t find you, okay?” She heard a couple of quiet giggles but nothing too loud. She found the first student easily and approached them silently. Gripping the ruler with now-white knuckles, she slit their throat with ease. Due to the deepness of the cut, they said nothing, collapsing in their spot. “Found you!” she giggled. The cover of darkness preventing the other kids from knowing what happened, she continued on. She picked over the kids one by one until there was one left.</p><p>“There is one of you left! I’m going to turn on the light and give you a prize for lasting so long! You did a great job.” She praised while turning on the lights. The kid hopped out of his spot only to view the remnants of his classmates. Before he could cry, he was tackled to the ground by Ms. Quinn. Killing the students in the dark was one thing, but when the light shone to glisten in their blood, it was so much more pleasing. Instead of slicing his throat, she watched the tears and strangled cries come out of his mouth. She raised the knife high above her head before bringing it down, stabbing straight through his throat. Her limited medical knowledge, let her know where to stab. She pulled the ruler out and pierced through him again, this time in through their rib cage and into their heart. She started doing this quicker with reckless abandon until the boy was most definitely dead. She started slicing all over his face, mutilating it like the body she found in the yard. She laughed, singing twinkle twinkle little star quietly to the dead child. His soulless eyes remained wide open, fear reminiscent in them. They were beautiful to her, the most beautiful she had ever seen.</p><p>The voice commanding her to kill them seemed to disappear, leaving her to her own wishes. Her thought process was sick, urges popping up all over. The strongest one gave her a wonderful idea. Using a dull pencil from her pocket, she lanced it straight through the kid’s left eye. Turning it to an angle, she popped it straight out of its socket, tearing the optic nerve. She tilted her head at it, a morbid curiosity filling her. She popped it in her mouth and bit down, though that didn’t take much strength. Her eyes widened, and she grinned. They tasted so good and were reminiscent of tapioca. Popping the other one out, she ate that one too. Getting a sick hunger, she paced around the classroom and took the rest of the students’ eyes until they were all eyeless corpses. With one last wish, she approached the mutilated kid.</p><p>She took her ruler and dug it into the kid’s stomach, slicing through his skin. More blood pooled around the ground as she did precision work, carving into him. Occasionally, she’d have to hold the skin still so it didn’t stretch but nothing more. When she finished, she took a step back and looked at her beautiful student. He was missing his eyeballs, face so mutilated he had no identification and the wondrous sight of his belly, filled with the quadratic formula. She took a look at the clock. Ten minutes had passed. She held the ruler in hand and peered out the door into the hallway. There was a window ten feet away. Running out and ramming into the window, she crawled through it’s shattered remnants. She sliced herself on the way out, but it was no matter. It simply wasn’t important.</p><p>She ran. Running and running until she couldn’t run anymore. She didn’t know where her feet had brought her, but she knew it was important. Standing in front of woods she hadn’t seen before, she strolled inside. She knew she couldn’t go back to regular life, but maybe this wasn’t so bad. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. House murder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a chapter to show off a different killing style with the same tactics. Violent depictions of death, child death, slight torture, reference to cannibalism. Do not read if uncomfortable</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sun cast dark shadows of trees and cars on the ground, illuminating the bleak neighborhood with the slightest hints of life. Leaves and grass danced gently in the breeze, absent of kids playing outside. To any average person, Veronica Quinn was just an average teacher taking a walk. Her body seemed to sway in time with the trees as she advanced down the sidewalk. She seemed average in every way, from her slightly tattered hair to the business casual outfit. Her half inch heels clicked on the concrete as she walked, not doing well to conceal her presence. This was no matter because the daylight didn’t do much to hide her either. It’d be so much easier to work at night, but the sight of her job during the day was just so beautiful that she couldn’t help herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a car, it was harder to be tracked as a missing person and a murderer, after the events of last week transpired on most local news stations, even reaching some state and national anchors due to the severity of the incident. She smiled remembering what happened in her classroom. Images of the children flashed across her eyes, bringing a sick joy to her. The warmth of blood so reminiscent that she could almost feel it on her skin. She brushed her fingers over the ruler in her pocket, a weapon she seemingly bonded with really quickly. The tip of it was sharpened due to a nervous habit, but ever since her coming to, she continued to sharpen it just for fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked up to one house, one she knew had a kid in it that went to the school she taught at and opened the door. If she was correct, there should be one kid, a grandma, and a grandpa. As she swiftly stepped inside, she heard a call from inside the house that sounded like that of a female.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made lunch, it’s on the stove!” The woman called out, presumably the grandma. Ms. Quinn grinned and hummed twinkle twinkle little star quietly. She treaded lightly but with a fast pace over to where she heard the sickly voice from.  Swinging open the door, she was eye to eye with the grandma. The soon to be victim sprung back, scrambling to pick up the phone. This was no match for Veronica though, springing quickly to action. Sprinting at her, she brought her quickly to the ground. The grandma let out a cry and Ms. Quinn pulled out the ruler with no hesitation, stabbing it straight through her throat. Her first victim let out a gargled cry as blood poured in, filling her throat and lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Quinn stood up, watching the grandma drown on her own blood. She was filthy anyway, she was just doing her a service. Turning around, she saw the supposed third grader with her mouth agape in the doorway. Ms. Quinn smiled, children having easily become the best part of the job. She loved seeing the innocent, pure life fade from their teensy eyes. She launched herself towards the child, chasing them down the hallway but ultimately outrunning their puny attempts at survival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped to their side, tripping them up so they landed on their stomach. They were screaming and crying, a sound that was music to her ears. She brought her heel down on the girl’s spine, pushing down with force until a loud crack was heard. She let out a high pitched scream as Ms. Quinn laughed, removing her foot. She took a step back and observed the child. The realization set in that they couldn’t move their legs, so they started trying to drag themselves with their arms. Veronica smiled, their feeble attempt proved amusing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid weakly dragged themselves to a phone located at the end of the hall, and as they lifted their arm to grab it, she stomped her heel onto their shoulder. A strangled cry emerged from their throat as she smashed her foot into their other shoulder. Kneeling down next to the child, she flipped them over, causing them to roll on their shattered joint. Tears streamed down their face, yet no words slipped out. Ms. Quinn hooked her finger around their bottom lip and teeth, forcing their jaw open. Taking the ruler stained with the blood of their grandma, she started slicing their cheeks open, starting from the outer edges of their mouth. She found it almost pathetic that they didn’t fight back, but with two shattered shoulders and being paralyzed from the spine down, there’s not much they could have done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With their jaw torn wide open, she smiled at the sight. They could barely speak due to the blood pooling in their throat. Taking the bloodied ruler, she began carving the Period formula into their chest. She started humming twinkle twinkle little star to the poor girl who let out gargled sounds. Standing up, she admired her work. The child was beautiful now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The lesson is over sweetie, you can return home now.” She whispered to the catatonic child. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a spoon that was left on the counter and returned to the slowly drowning kid. She gently tucked the spoon into their eye socket and lifted the eye out, effectively blinding her on that side. She took the Ziploc bag out of her pocket and set it inside. Scooping the other one, she put that one inside too. She moved on to the long-dead grandma, taking her eyes too. The children’s always tasted so much better, but take what you can get. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving out the back door, she hopped the fence, gentle not to smush the eyes. She imagined how the grandpa would react when he got home, to see his poor wife and child dead. She laughed at the idea that brought her joy. Oh, how she loved seeing the children die. One day she would stick around to see someone react, but today simply wasn’t that day.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tapioca</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a fun, joke chapter. Implied animal murder and eating of animal parts.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dancing around in the small, abandoned summer cabin, she waited on the water to boil. There was no electricity or running water, but there was a well outside and a gas stove inside. When she heard a whistle coming from the slightly rusted teapot she found, she grasped it gently and poured the hot water into her cup. Letting her teabag steep, she went to the cooler filled with ice that she kept her eyes in. She stared at two Tupperware containers, both filled with similar but different items. Ultimately deciding on the leftmost container, she went back to her cup.</p><p>Checking her watch for the time, she waited for four minutes to pass before removing the teabag from the container and tossing it in the trash. She proceeded to open up the container, revealing about 50 cat eyes. She grinned, thinking about how she harvested these. There were so many stray cats in this forest and she just couldn't help herself. Pouring about half the container into the tea, she resealed it and placed it back in the cooler. She laughed at her "tapioca" tea, before taking a long sip out of the hot cup. It burnt her mouth, but that stuff simply wasn't important. Chewing on the eyes, she exhaled, feeling at peace.</p>
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